


A Promise for the Future

by Gladdybug



Series: Gladdybug does Ferdibert Week 2020 [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Ferdibert Week (Fire Emblem), Ferdibert Week 2020 (Fire Emblem), Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Love, M/M, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Mild Angst, Near Death Experiences, Oaths & Vows, Post-Black Eagles Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Post-CF-ish, Romance, Secret Marriage, Soft Hubert von Vestra, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:07:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25813309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gladdybug/pseuds/Gladdybug
Summary: Ferdibert Week Day 2: Fighting, Fear, and Secret, in that order.Ferdinand avoids death. Hubert says his vows.Warning for some very mild descriptions of violence.“Oh, Hubert… you don’t have to promise me anything. We have much work to do before we can secure a future for ourselves.”“It is precisely for that reason that I am promising you my future.”
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir & Hubert von Vestra, Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Series: Gladdybug does Ferdibert Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1872868
Comments: 12
Kudos: 87





	A Promise for the Future

**Author's Note:**

> Did I totally woobify Hubert? yes
> 
> Do I regret it? absolutely not
> 
> I wrote this without realizing that day 3's prompt is also a "brush with death," oopsie! ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

As much as he deigned to paint himself otherwise, anyone who truly knew Hubert knew that a mortal heart beat within him, full of human emotions like love and fear and hope. In the fight against Those Who Slither in the Dark, it was an incredible liability, shown only by the blind panic that flooded his mind upon seeing Ferdinand fall from his horse after the blade of a sword passed much too close to his throat. Instantly he leapt into action, smiting their opponents with a particularly acrid miasma spell and fending off half a battalion as Marianne frantically staunched the bleeding and closed up the wound.

The analytical, rational part of his brain he was known for told him that Ferdinand would be okay; they had treated his wounds as best they could at camp with all the healing magic they could muster and all he needed was a little bed rest before he was right as rain. He was a man of action, after all; fear did not paralyze him, only spur him to act. Perhaps this was what had saved Ferdinand’s life, rather than the alternative.

Despite this, anxiety gnawed at Hubert’s insides, refusing to listen no matter how much he told himself that Ferdinand would be okay. Only when the Duke himself stirred in his lap, blinking sleepily at him, did the worry in his heart abate somewhat, but those moments were few and far between as Ferdinand spent the majority of their ride back to Enbarr sleeping soundly against Hubert’s shoulder, lulled by the rocking of their mount as they made the four-day trip back to Aegir land. 

_He will be fine,_ Hubert repeated to himself for the hundredth time that day, pressing his worried frown to Ferdinand’s hair. They were to reach Aegir manor shortly, where he had arranged for both his and Ferdinand’s most trusted healers to take care of him in a more permanent way than could be done at camp. 

Ferdinand’s gardener spots them first and alerts the rest of the staff. As Hubert’s black warhorse trots up the main path, he finds their small traveling party promptly accosted by Ferdinand’s stablehands and healers, who quickly divest him of his horse and the Duke on his lap. Hubert strides after the latter as they guide Ferdinand to his quarters and lay him on his bed. Already freed of his armor and dressed in light traveling clothes, Ferdinand makes himself comfortable, a small smile appearing on his face upon realizing he is home. 

Hubert looms at the head of the bed as he leans in to study Ferdinand. Indeed, he looks better than he had at camp, but his complexion is still pale and his wounds relatively fresh. His eye catches the cut at the base of his neck that, while closed up beautifully by Marianne, will undoubtedly scar and leave a permanent reminder of how fleeting the life of his beloved could be. The very thought turns Hubert’s stomach. 

Ferdinand stirs. “Mmm… Hubert?” 

“Ferdinand!” Hubert jolts, “how do you feel? Are you still hurt? You took the brunt of --”

Ferdinand smiles weakly. “Do not worry, my love. It will take more than a simple blade to take down Ferdinand von Aegir.” 

Ferdinand’s words calm Hubert’s heart some and he lets out a sigh, suddenly aware that he had been holding one for the majority of their ride. It is then that one of the healers comes to shoo him away, insistent that they perform a more thorough inspection and treatment of Ferdinand’s wounds, and Hubert is made to wait in the parlor. 

He is not sure how much time passes, but he is sure that he had spent all of it pacing back and forth, undoubtedly wearing a hole into Ferdinand’s carpet. Finally, he is allowed back into Ferdinand’s bedroom, and as soon as he is let in, crosses the vast room in a few quick strides to kneel at the side of Ferdinand’s bed. The Duke is half-asleep, lips twitching with every ragged breath he draws. The sight of Ferdinand like this, prone and vulnerable, is such a high contrast to the brave figure he cuts on horseback in the midst of battle, and Hubert’s heart twists at the thought.

“Well?” asks Hubert, a little more forcefully than he would have liked. 

“There is no need to worry, Minister Vestra,” comes a voice, one of his own most trusted healers. Simply hearing those words calms the panic in his mind somewhat. “His wounds are healing fine. Your healers on the battlefield did splendid work and he should be fully recovered within a matter of weeks, provided he gets enough rest. The doctors at Aegir will keep an eye on him in the meantime.” 

“Thank you, Hendrick,” says Hubert, “I greatly appreciate everything you’ve done for him.” 

“Of course, sir.” 

He hears the shuffle of doctors as they leave, followed by the soft _click_ of the door closing behind them, upon which Ferdinand begins to stir once more. 

“...Hubert? Have they left?”

Hubert leans over Ferdinand, propping himself up with an arm on each side of the man’s body. He is halfway onto the bed at this point but cannot be bothered with propriety now that they are alone. It is a relief, being left to fret over Ferdinand with no prying eyes to witness his weakness.

“Yes, Ferdinand. It is just us, now,” he says shakily. 

Ferdinand reaches towards him, trembling with the effort, only for his fingertips to brush against Hubert’s cheek before his arm collapses back onto the bed. “I’m so tired,” he chuckles. 

“You’re hurt, love. Save your strength.” Hubert makes no effort to hide the quaver in his voice. It is just the two of them, and he is allowed to be vulnerable in front of his beloved.

Ferdinand blinks slowly and smiles. “I must have caused you a dreadful fright,” he says apologetically, “I do apologize for that.” 

Part of Hubert wants to scold him, _you did!_ but he bites his tongue and takes Ferdinand’s face between his palms. “I’m just glad you’re alive.” 

“Only because of your prompt care,” says Ferdinand, nuzzling his cheek into one of Hubert’s palms. “Thank you.” 

His face is warm under Hubert’s touch. Hubert presses his thumbs into Ferdinand’s cheeks, their softness a tangible reminder that he is not dreaming this, that Ferdinand is alive in his arms despite his darkest and most private of fears. He kisses Ferdinand for further proof; the Duke’s lips are dry and chapped against his own but he would not have it any other way. Self-consciously, Ferdinand’s tongue peeks out to moisten his lips mid-kiss and it brushes against the seam of Hubert’s mouth. Hubert pulls back, sighing. The color has already returned to Ferdinand’s face and crimson colors his cheeks in a healthy glow. 

“I do not know what I would have done if I had lost you,” admits Hubert. Ferdinand indulges him, allows him to trace reverent fingertips across the thick hairs of his eyebrow, the freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose, the swell of his lower lip. He pats the empty space beside him. 

“Why don’t you come lie with me? It will be more comfortable than kneeling on the floor like that,” he says, forbidding Hubert from pursuing that train of thought any further. 

Taking care not to jostle his injuries, Hubert crawls onto the sheets next to Ferdinand and curls up next to him. Ferdinand brings an arm up to hook above where Hubert’s head rests on the pillow, his hand finding its way into the mop of dark curls atop Hubert’s head. Though Ferdinand is the injured one, there’s something painful about the vulnerability Hubert shows, every carefully crafted wall torn down by the fearsome threat of losing his beloved. Knowing he’s still around to comfort him brings some relief to Ferdinand’s own aches, dulled by the affection for his fellow minister swelling within his heart. 

They stay like that as the rays of the setting sun slink across Ferdinand’s floor and the room takes on an orange glow, with Ferdinand’s fingers carding through Hubert’s hair. The panic coursing through Hubert’s body has long since faded, chased away by the occasional soothing scratch at his scalp. 

Finally, Hubert speaks.

“I forgot to tell you that I loved you that day,” he says.

“It’s no worry,” replies Ferdinand, “I always know.” 

“I came so close to losing you, Ferdinand.” 

“But, you didn’t. It was your quick action that saved me, do not forget that.” 

“I know. I will try not to.” Hubert uncurls himself, stretching out the kinks in his back. At this, Ferdinand is briefly reminded of a black cat he once befriended as a student, and smiles. 

“I love you too,” he says, reaching up to brush away the fringe hanging in front of Hubert’s eyes. They are wet with unshed tears, glimmering like finely-cut peridots. Hubert gives possibly the most pathetic, watery half-smile that Ferdinand has ever seen, and he can’t help but laugh out loud. 

“Who knew that the Emperor’s shadow, master of poisons and bringer of pain, had such a sweet side to him?” he remarks, perhaps a bit too teasingly, as Hubert frowns at this. 

“I am only human,” he says, “I love and hurt like any other man.”

Ferdinand lets his hand fall slowly, trailing down Hubert’s lips and the wrinkled clothes on his chest to rest comfortingly on Hubert’s thigh. “I jest,” he concedes, “I, of all people, know best how deep and strong your affections run. I feel the same way.” 

Hubert places his hand over Ferdinand’s. “I promise to tell you I love you every day.” 

“Oh, Hubert… you don’t have to promise me anything. We have much work to do before we can secure a future for ourselves.” 

Hubert swallows. “It is precisely for that reason that I am promising you my future.” His fingers rub at Ferdinand’s ring finger, right above his knuckle, and Ferdinand knows all too well what it means. 

“Hubert…” he breathes.

“We can’t go public with this. At least not until those blasted Slitherers are taken care of,” says Hubert, acid in his voice, “but…”

Ferdinand smiles. “It will be our secret. Just the two of us, just until it’s safe.”

The acid in Hubert’s voice is gone, replaced by warmth. “Do you accept? Even with the caveat of secrecy?”

“I do.” Ferdinand takes Hubert’s hand in his and kisses Hubert’s ring finger, right above the knuckle. “I promise I will love you always, through the darkness and into the dawn, if you desire me so.”

Hubert leans closer, his lips almost brushing the shell of Ferdinand’s ear. “I do,” he whispers, so quietly that Ferdinand can barely hear it. 

Ferdinand chuckles. “You may kiss the bride.” 

Their lips meet, gentle and steadfast, small smiles pressed together to seal a secret promise that they would meet on the other side of this war and walk into the future, hand-in-hand. For the first time in days, Hubert’s mortal heart is filled with hope, and while it may be a liability in their fight against the Slitherers, it is also his greatest strength. 

__

Addendum, after the fall of Shambhala:

“You’re telling me that you’ve been _married_ for two years and you didn’t tell me?” Edelgard snaps, “what other secrets do you keep, Hubert?” 

“Oh, all sorts,” says Hubert wryly as Ferdinand guffaws into a gloved hand beside him. Edelgard simply rolls her eyes and shakes her head, wondering what transgression she had made in a past life that warranted her being stuck with these two lovestruck idiots as her most valued ministers.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a fun one to write. I'm still trying to rediscover my style after years of writing stuffy academic papers, but the feedback I receive on my fics motivates me to keep writing. Thank you for reading!
> 
> XOXO, Gladdybug


End file.
